What You Have Lost
by AnnaRinzler
Summary: "I will return what you have lost." Will Slade get more than he bargained for after his deal with Trigon? Post-series finale.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Titans or Slade._

The young woman was suddenly awake. It was not the blissful bubbling up to consciousness that comes with a perfect night's sleep, or the drowsy, grudging awareness that follows a good nap. She simply opened her eyes without a moment's thought. A plain, off-white wall met her eyes in the bright light, and the black face of a cheap television mounted on the wall gazed dully back at the thin form lying on the bed. Where was she? She did not move or stir or raise her head from the pillow, eyes darting around in her narrow field of vision to assess her surroundings. The smell that greeted her nose with her first breath was astringent and harsh. There was something beeping beside her bed, and at the thought of it the sound was brought into the forefront of her brain. It had been beeping for some time, perhaps since she had opened her eyes. She flexed her hands and held them up an inch off of the bed. Wires and tape and tubes were wrapped around her wrists. They didn't' hurt, but they definitely went under the skin. She flexed her hands. Something inside them ached and felt cold, but it was a phantom pain that ceased when she ceased flexing them and let them fall, limp, onto the scratchy bedclothes.

The beige door on her right suddenly swung open and two people entered the room nearly at the same time. The younger man pushed past the older man and ran to her bedside, staring down at her with something akin to fascination. The older man made her less anxious and moved a bit slower, approaching the bed in a calmer manner and nodding down at her. He had glasses and a white coat on and her eyes flickered toward him instead of the younger person, whose features had smoothed out into a stoic mask.

"You're awake," the older man began with a smile, picking up an electronic chart at the foot of her bed and examining it as he took his glasses off, "Excellent. How are you feeling, Mrs. Wilson?"

They both looked down at her and her gaze flickered uncertainly between each one of them. Biting her lip, she tried to force her brain to form the words she needed. Why was it so hard?

"Who?" She asked quietly, her voice a raspy whisper that elicited surprised stares from both of the men in the room.

_"Adeline," _the younger one said sharply, leaning down and scrutinizing her face, "You don't recognize me?"

The man looking down at her was very blond, so blond that his hair was almost white in the light. He had vibrant, deep blue eyes—or rather, _eye, _and she shrank away from him and blatantly looked at the black patch of cloth where his right eye should have been. She couldn't tell how old he was. She shook her head as best she could and tried to move away from him, and as soon as he noticed he stepped back and let the other man approach her bed.

"Mrs. Wilson," the other man said slowly, "I'm Dr. Tarver, I've been your physician for the last couple of days. Your husband brought you in. I'm afraid you're suffering from some sort of retrograde amnesia"—

"My husband?" She interrupted him, staring back at the blank-faced man who was surveying her from the corner, who stepped forward as soon as he was mentioned.

"We're married, Adeline," he replied, reaching into the pocket of his non-descript black suit and pulling out a diamond ring that winked in the light.

"Do I have to go with him?" She asked the doctor, who hesitated and adjusted his glasses before her alleged husband shot him a fierce glare.

"I'm afraid so," Dr. Tarver said quickly, "But not until"—

"She's fine," the younger man coolly stated, "I'll have her out of here in an hour."

"But—but I don't even know your _name!" _

"It's Slade," he said, pulling out his phone and glancing at the doctor as the man walked quickly out of the door.

**Author's Note: I know, I'm terrible. But my computer died and it has all of the chapters from my other stories that are in progress on it. :S As soon as it's fixed I'll update everything else, I promise. In the meantime this came into my head.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

When he'd found her, lying on top of her own grave like that, limp and cold, Slade was absolutely certain that he'd been hallucinating. "What he had lost" in his life was a hell of a lot more than Addie. He'd thought that perhaps Trigon would bring back his son Grant to keep him company, or maybe Lili, or maybe his right eye. Instead Trigon had given him the finger and played this cruel, cosmic joke on the man who still had phantom pains from his ex-wife's near-fatal shot. Part of him had considered leaving her there to die (again) or letting her wander the Earth, maintaining their unspoken agreement to keep as much distance between each other as possible.

Though he'd pondered it for some time he hadn't been able to go through with just leaving Adeline. He'd respected her, in his way, and his respect added up to substantially more than casual desertion. It was a carryover from his old life he supposed, and an annoying one at that. So Slade had taken her to the hospital of his choice, and to Dr. Tarver, who had been visited more than once with a number of unusual requests, and who had sworn a life-long vow of silence. That didn't mean he enjoyed Slade's presence, and accepted the large sums of money the man paid for his medical consultations more than a little apprehensively.

His phone gave a gentle buzz and Slade flipped it open to reveal yet another text from Wintergreen. The man had sent him so many messages in the last twenty minutes that Slade had pondered doing away with the cell phone altogether. However, the news of Addie's recent "rebirth" was certainly surprising enough to warrant such a barrage of messages. God only knew what her parents would do when they found out the news…if he ever told them, of course. His plans for her had changed the instant she'd failed to recognize (or tried to kill) him in her hospital room. As far as he was concerned, her amnesia was an opportunity. He didn't know how long it would last, of course, but his initial impression of her was that she'd been terribly afraid of him, which meant that he could temporarily boss her around with little trouble. He didn't particularly _like _seeing her in such a weak state, but for the moment it suited him nicely. If Trigon had wiped her memories clean forever, then he ran into another issue. What could he do with her? For a moment Slade toyed with the idea of lying to her for the rest of their lives. He could have his wife back, except he could make her like the Addie from the old days, one who wasn't out for blood.

"Sir? Your wife's all ready to go."

Slade was roused out of his thoughts by the polite sound of a nurse's summons for him, and he gave her a vacant smile and a nod before standing and buttoning his suit jacket. Gotham City was a fantastic place to blend in. No one recognized him here, or even thought twice about a tall, muscular man with one eye walking around in broad daylight. He strode out of the waiting room into the hallway, where a very unhappy Adeline was sitting in a wheelchair with her head down, staring at her clasped hands. She was wearing the outfit he'd gotten after taking her to the hospital, a pale blue sundress and white ballet shoes. Slade had chosen the sizes and colors from his memory of what fit her and what she liked, and though he tried not to scrutinized her too closely he could tell that he hadn't done a terrible job. She raised her eyes to his and quickly looked down, and for the first time Slade could see what she was fiddling with in her lap.

"Thank you," he said to the nurses, his pleased tone due solely to the fact that his ex-wife's left hand was sporting her old diamond ring.

He knew in that moment that he could reel her in. She had to have put it on herself; of course the nurses wouldn't have made her wear it. Slade had let them dress her instead of offering to help, fearing that might make her even more skittish. For some reason she was warming up to him almost as slowly as she had in their military days, when the mere mention of his name would cause her to assign motivational PT to anyone within a hundred yards. Slade's thoughts remained in the past until he walked out of the hospital, trailing behind the nurse pushing Addie's wheelchair up to their small, discreet limousine.

"I can _walk_," she murmured stubbornly, standing up out of the chair and heading toward the limo.

"I know honey," the nurse replied, "It's for liability for the hospital, we had to get you out of here like that."

Slade hid a smirk as his "wife" quickly slid inside the car and he waited a moment before getting in after her. Their driver shut the door behind them, and for the first time in a long time the pair was alone without any intentions of fighting or killing each other. At least Slade didn't have any intention of fighting or killing her, but he had no idea what she was thinking. Twisting her ring around was already becoming a nervous habit, and Addie had squeezed herself as far away from him as possible, wedging her body between the black leather cushions and the door as her right hand worked at her left.

"I don't know you," she said severely, not relinquishing her defensive position but turning her head toward him, "Do you have any proof that I'm who you say I am?"

"I do," he responded solemnly, casually flicking the switch that raised the black privacy barrier between them and the driver, "I have your passport, birth certificate, personal affects…the list goes on."

Slade decided to play along, at least for now. He pulled out her passport and other official documents, most of them not even forged, and placed them on the middle seat where she could pick them up. He watched her as she studied her passport, looking at the picture and touching her face.

"_Bullshit, Wilson!" Captain Kane screamed, her pretty face flush with anger as she hurled a wad of mud at his already-soaked form, "You'll complete this course or drop dead, and so help me god I don't care which comes first!" _

_The nineteen-year-old stood as straight as was humanly possible while knee-deep in the swamp and stared straight ahead while she continued hurling curses his way. She wasn't distractingly attractive, as worked up as she was, and she did have an inordinate amount of green pond scum on her face—_

"I suppose everything's in order." His ex admitted it grudgingly, sounding so much like her old self that he had to do a double-take, "And…the ring does fit perfectly."

She looked at it with more affection that she'd shown him and he rolled his eye. He'd saved up for forever, and that was just for the plane ticket to Africa so he could get a large-enough diamond that hadn't quite made it through the Kimberly process. It was apparently doing the trick all over again.

"Where are we going?"

"One of our homes."

He let her think about that one for a moment. She wrinkled up her forehead. Slade had absolutely no idea what he'd tell her by the time she got around to asking how old they were or what had happened. Neither of them looked a day over twenty-five anymore. Perhaps it was because that's the way he'd always seen her in his mind's eye, even after everything that had happened, and so that's the way she had come back to him.

"Do we have a lot of money?"

Playing twenty questions with someone who should already know the answers was going to get very old, very fast. Though her voice had grown in volume and she no longer put in her inquiries in that annoying, hesitant way, he really didn't know how much more he could stand. Of course, getting irritated with her so soon would definitely have negative results, no matter what his eventual goal shaped up to be.

"I have money," Slade replied wryly, "_Your_ family has a _lot _of money."

It was true. Slade was a tightwad with the cash he earned from his contracts, so unbeknownst to Addie's father, he was picking up the tab for everything from his daughter's dress to the hospital bill and the limo ride. The old bastard.

"That's good I suppose." Addie responded solemnly, and looked out of the window with curiosity when they pulled up to a sandstone apartment building.

"We're here," Slade stated, waiting until the driver parked and walked around to open the door for them.

He slid out first and turned, offering his hand to her. When she placed her slender fingers in his Slade's arm went numb. It wasn't a clichéd sort of feeling that consumed his whole body, but the fact that he was helping a living, breathing Adeline out of a car felt more than a little surreal. She made no move to leave his side and so he let her lean on his arm, nodding at the doorman who opened the large, ornate glass door for them. Apparently her bravado about being able to walk from before had been only that and she leaned heavily enough on him that he surmised her ordeal had left her more tired than she let on.

"We're on the fourth floor," he explained, walking into the elevator and keying in the code that would let them stop in the proper spot.

When they reached the apartment Slade knocked quietly before opening the door. He'd instructed Wintergreen, among a myriad of other things, to leave it open, and he and Adeline walked in and stood in the foyer for a moment. He turned to look at her as she quirked an eyebrow and looked around. It was perhaps the decorations that were throwing her off, or perhaps she expected to remember something, _anything _about her past life by walking inside. Of course, she'd never actually lived here. It was the reason the place was set up like something straight out of a hunting lodge, with leather furniture and various animal skin rugs and a large, stone fireplace. The whole apartment was devoid of anything feminine. Even the paintings on the wall (all Wintergreen's doing, Slade had precious little time for decorating) were mostly wildlife scenes. He wasn't extremely happy about sharing his personal space with a woman who could turn volatile at any moment, but this was the best he could do under the circumstances. After all, he couldn't fly her to his house in Johannesburg in her state, and until he got everything sorted out this was the best he could do.

"Wintergreen," Slade called, interrupting Addie's scrutiny of a mounted antelope's head on the wall.

The older man walked into the room and almost immediately Adeline drifted to Slade's side. A good sign, he noted.

"Is Adeline's room ready?"

"It is," Wintergreen replied crisply, "The bathroom as well. Good to see you again, Mrs. Wilson," he continued, nodding at Addie and giving Slade a surreptitiously disapproving look, "Let me know if you require anything else."

Wintergreen disappeared into the kitchen area and Slade walked down the hallway, pausing at the door to Addie's new bedroom.

"I've had Wintergreen set things up for you here."

He looked around her room, noting that his long-time assistant had thought to include a bouquet of fresh orchids on the dressing table. He had also removed the heads of the various animals Slade had killed on safari, thought the zebra-hide rug was still in its usual spot on the hardwood floor. Walking casually into the bathroom, Slade let his gaze flicker over the soft, lavender-colored towels and accents that now adorned the once-bare room. There were fresh, exotic flowers in the bathroom as well, which elicited a depressed sigh from Slade and the hope that Wintergreen had tapped into Addie's father's account for the redecoration. He knew that she'd like the bathroom, since the sand-colored marble was more easily made female-friendly than the rest of the place. Slade left the bathroom and instantly noticed that the closet door was cracked. She must have looked in on her new wardrobe, though she was currently stroking the petals of one of her orchids. She looked very appealing in that moment, the evening sun shining in behind her and softening her features, showcasing the red glints in her hair, but this was precisely the reason he'd given her a room away from his. It wouldn't do to move to quickly…if he ever made a move at all. If he decided to court his wife (again) it would take time and energy.

"Is it still your favorite color?"

She jerked her head toward him and then back at the flowers, her green eyes cloudy. Apparently she'd been lost in her own thoughts.

"Wh-oh yes." Addie replied, fondly looking down at the lavender streaks in the purple petals.

"You can thank Wintergreen for that," Slade continued, "He's been with us for years."

He gave her hair another glance before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. Addie looked up at him and tentatively took it from his hand when he held it out to her.

"The key to your room. The only key. Mine is down the hallway, last door on your right. If you need anything."

"Thank you," Adeline responded instantly, relief flooding her voice.

"Don't mention it."

He would prefer to ignore the issue altogether. She looked as if a massive weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, and appeared so relieved that it made him mildly uncomfortable. Even at his most twisted he found the idea of forcing himself on someone (or forcing her to share a room with him) to be extremely distasteful, but that was apparently what she believed, or at least suspected, would happen to her here. Plus, putting her in her own room had added benefits. He'd at least have a bit of warning if she suddenly got her memory back and decided to shoot his other eye out. And this way he could create a bit of distance between them. He could find out if this new Addie would desire his attention if he remained relatively aloof.

"You play the piano," Slade said casually, "There's one in the library if you ever want to try it out."

"You have a library?"

"Yes. It had a fireplace and a few reading lamps, it gets very warm in the winter. I spend quite a lot of time there. Of course you're welcome to use it."

Addie nodded, looking extremely interested, but soon had to stifle a yawn that came over her behind one hand.

"Would you like the grand tour now or perhaps tomorrow when you've rested? Would you like anything to eat?"

She glanced back at the bed, which had been made up with a luxurious golden comforter and far too many fluffy pillows for Slade's tastes, before looking uncertainly back at him.

"I'm not hungry but I'm very tired," she admitted, "Though I do want to see everything…and I still have so many questions."

"Go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow," Slade quickly replied. "I'll be here for most of the day. Wintergreen will make you breakfast…or lunch, depending on when you decide to get up, I suppose."

She gave him a small smile and he nodded back.

"Goodnight, Adeline."

Slade walked out of the door, tilting his head and listening for the words that he hadn't heard in more than five years.

"Goodnight, Slade."

**Author's Note: **I'm having a really hard time with this piece. I think what's going to end up happening is that it'll turn out to be the bastard child of the comic series and the cartoon series. Because in the cartoon series, Wintergreen makes a few brief appearances and runs off with the H.I.V.E. Headmistress (who probably isn't Addie) and is then flash-frozen with the Brotherhood. That's easy to explain away (Slade would rescue him) but Joseph's still alive in the cartoon as well and there's no mention of Rose. Anyway. I'll get it together, just forgive me if I follow the cartoon better than the comic sometimes.


End file.
